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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129556">The Bull and The Mockingbird</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vetreaux/pseuds/Vetreaux'>Vetreaux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Horror - Fandom, House of Wax (2005), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies), movies - Fandom, slasher - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gay, Horror, LGBT, M/M, Movie: Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003), NSFW, Slasher, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, house of wax - Freeform, mlm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:22:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vetreaux/pseuds/Vetreaux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent finally finds solitude with his captor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vincent Sinclair / Thomas Hewitt, Vincent/Thomas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Bull and The Mockingbird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> It had been three days now, Vincent’s spine rested uncomfortably against a textured concrete wall. Strung up on a butcher’s hook were his wrists, bound with thick leather strips and a zip tie for good measure. The strain of his weight finally began to take hold. His pectorals quivering alongside his biceps; the lack of food and water dehydrating him into a husk. He hadn’t been able to remove his mask since being captured, and with this Texas heat–beads of sweat and oil were sealing the wax to his skin. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and itchy.. dark hair began to mat over the opposite side of his mask. He desperately needed to air out and scratch his nose but he could not. He would sigh, tongue dryly licking the cracks along his lower lip. <b><br/>
</b></p>
<p>  He had not seen another soul since the start of all this. All he could recall was the argument he had with his sibling and barrel rolling out of a moving truck to avoid being struck or belittled any longer. Bo’s attitude was becoming too intolerable for him to handle, it was constant neglect from him despite being the only thing he ever had. Normally, there was a connection between the two, one that he couldn’t say much for his younger brother; although Lester bore more brotherly love than his twin–Bo just.. Understood, or did he? It was quite exhausting making sense of that man’s behavioral patterns, what was the point in debating it? If Bo actually cared he would have searched for his brother without question, though perhaps he hadn’t a clue where Vincent was. Either way, it did not matter. </p>
<p>  Vinny waited patiently for someone to come visit him, even if it were for his execution. Anticipating slaughter for 72 hours was not ideal. He could not speak, but he was an avid listener. He could hear steps overhead and hushed voices with occasional shouting. Other than that–Nothing. This underground liar became his isolated tomb. He thought it was fitting in a way;  Dying as he lived, misunderstood, quiet, agonizingly lonely. A heavy breath of sorrow reverberated from his throat, the rustling of locks above stiffening Vincent in place like a doll hiding from their owner. His left eye watching the stairway carefully as hefty steps made their way down. He took into great detail how large his captor was; he was at least 6’5.. The width of his arms barreled like his childhood show, Popeye. He moved around like a bull in a china shop–knocking things over obviously before settling down at a table adjacent to Vincent. </p>
<p>  He had rolled out a saturated carrier with various tools made for skinning animals. All of them were well used and stained either from rust or blood. Vincent could tell this man was a creature of habit like himself– not a meticulous bone in his body for cleanliness. Though blood and wax were quite different, as was sculpting and flaying. After prepping his tools he prepped the table with a fresh plastic covering, turning on his heel to fill up a wooden bucket with cold water, tossing a used washcloth and dice of soap bits into the mix and setting it on a stool next alongside his tools. Vincent sucked in his lips, hoping he’d at least be cleaned before his slaughter. The executioner dumped a dirty hand into the mix, swirling it around until soap bubbles collected around his wrist. Rising the cloth to Vincent’s naked torso, “Thank God..” he thought to himself as the stranger took long strides from his chest down to the patch of hair that riddled his abdomen, the cold water drenching the crotch of his pants. </p>
<p>  Vincent took the time to look over his captor, he was much taller than him, hair was wavy and russet, eyes of hazel, face was covered in poorly stitched leather. He bore a filthy collared shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, a dingy apron and seemed to have a focused routine. Picking up a marking pen from his tool wrap and placing small lines over Vinny’s flesh in place of where he was going to soon scalpel. He had such intricate movements for a bull, fingertips dancing over Vince’s body as though he were a work of art himself. He knew exactly what that felt like when he sculpted, the divine measurements of the flesh, how it curves and stretches. Vincent could feel a cough coming on, though he was afraid to mess up the lining–then he blinked, wondering why he cared? This man was going to cut him open.. Who cares if it’s ruined? Heaving out a dry cough, wheezing from the lack of fluids the man opposite of him pausing from aggravation and clutching Vince’s throat in his calloused palm in an attempt to shut him up. </p>
<p>  Vincent’s eye widened, his captor’s hazel hues matching his single blue. Vince was accustomed to his brother’s abuse, he always knew when to duck or doge; not that he was completely capable of doing that now–however this was unanticipated. For the first time in a while, he felt the normalcy of neglect wear off as a tear rolled down his cheek and collected around the crease of his mask’s eye opening. This detail confused the leather faced man, closing in to inspect Vincent’s eye. Squinting, unsure he pressed his fingertips against Vinny’s mask nearly losing his own balance as they squished the waxy product. Gazing down at his fingertips and sniffing them, refocusing on Vince he peeled back his coal locks to expose a black hole where his other eye should be. Now taken aback by this discovery he decided to investigate more, feeling around Vince’s jawline for a seal and digging his nails along the outline once he found it. Slowly removing the wax from his victim’s disfigured face and staring in awe. </p>
<p>  Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Vinny felt relieved to be rid of it finally.. His skin could breathe, and his lips could part freely without restraint. His counterpart on the other hand seemed to be stupefied by his appearance. “Even him?.. A grimy, masked killer is even bothered by my face?….” Vincent’s heart sank further down, though his expression shifted when a wet rag was suddenly shoved against his cheek. “Guess I was wrong..”  After rinsing the sweat and oil from his porcelain features the stranger cupped his peach fuzz chin, examining his scarring intimately. Their faces only centimeters apart as the Texan bull loomed over him, eyes circling from each corner before letting him drop from his grip to abruptly hurry back upstairs. “Curious..” Vincent thought. </p>
<p>  Twenty minutes had passed before he returned, though this time not alone. He had a short, stout elderly woman following behind him. “What is this about Thomas!?” She shouted behind him impatiently, “I have suppah’ cookin, I can’t leave the stove unattended.” He returned in a more jittery fashion, removing Vincent’s hair out of the way like a theatre curtain. Showing her his face in what seemed to be an enamoring fashion. Readjusting her spectacles to get a closer look at his disfigurement, thin lips pursed while resting a hand on her hip. “So.. It seems you’ve made a friend…” Assessing his scars. “They don’t seem fresh either.” Glancing back to Thomas, a look of worry upon her as he showed her the mask fashioned from wax. </p>
<p>  “You better not tell your brother, he wouldn’t like this one bit. You should keep em’ down here for the meantime till I can coax him. Understood?” Thomas rubbed his palms together, nodding along excitedly. “What’s your name, boy?” She asked; though Vincent could not answer, he muffled a sound instead. “Hm.. That’s abnormal, innit? It’s like he was made for ya son..” Thomas poked his mother’s shoulder as she was leaving, gesturing to an empty cup on the step, she nodded. “I’ll be back with yer water boy.” Vincent sighed with relief. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on but it seemed he was going to be liberated, or at least for now.</p>
<p>  Taking a pocket knife and serrating through the bonds, Vince fell to his knees. The strains of his arms finally subsided as they were released from their stressful hold. Though his muscles still ached, he rotated his shoulder blades feverishly to stretch them. Thomas threw a raggedy towel over him before carefully helping him to his feet, this act of tenderness confusing Vince further. Just moments before he was going to be dissected, now he was being treated like a house guest, what a strange way to welcome a friend? Allowing his caretaker to guide him to an old rocking chair, Vince was overjoyed to bend his knees and rest his spine. He tilted his head back, closing his eye in contentness. He was then met with a glass of water that he lapped up like a thirsty hound, the water hitting the bottom of his empty stomach stirred a hungry grumble.</p>
<p>  Thomas took note of this and fished out a small paper bag from his pocket to offer. Vincent shakily took the bag and opened it to see some type of beef jerky, without question he began scarfing it down causing Thomas to laugh in amusement. He had never seen someone so hungry before, although it was his fault for being gone so long–he soon started to regret leaving the skinny fella to starve. Then he just ignored it, thrilled that he finally had someone to relate to. He watched Vince eat impatiently before patting his pant knee for attention. He then began to unstrap the pull string of his mask, unleashing it to show his new pal that they were not so different. Thomas’ lack of nose and neurodegeneration made Vince feel both a sense of shock and comfort, as he had never known anyone else to suffer like himself. Though his quiet reaction made Thom feel a bit insecure, he grunted agitatedly while clutching his mask in hand stomping his foot for Vince to provide some response. </p>
<p>  Jolting upwards and waving his hand wearily, Vincent then pointed to the hollow of his throat before facing both palms down with his index fingers in handshapes a few inches from each other then pressing his closed palm to his lips signing ‘Can’t speak, mute.’ Though Thom scrunched his face in confusion. Vincent tried once again to sign something easier, pointing to his throat then resting his palm back against his mouth in endearment but it seemed poor Thom just didn’t understand and instead was becoming annoyed because he could not comprehend sign language. Vincent looked around for the pen Thom was using earlier, pointing at it to use. When the bull didn’t budge Vince stood up only to be knocked back down by his towering companion. It took Thom a couple minutes to realize he wasn’t trying to escape–Just that he wanted to write, so he eventually gathered the pen and a small leather canvas for Vincent to use. </p>
<p>    Vincent pressed his finger tips to his mouth then extended his palm outwards signing ‘Thank you’ though it was rather pointless. Writing down a short sentence that Thom jerked out of his hand to read. “I can not speak, I was born like this. It hurts my throat to try.. Hello Thomas, My name is Vincent.” He giggled reading his own name, his mannerisms coming into play as he made happy noises with excitable knuckle popping. He took one look at Vincent before lunging towards him into a tight bear hug. Picking the smaller man up like he was just a sack of flour and swaying him side to side. Vincent was SO not used to this behavior.. His brother had tortured him for years, both psychologically and physically. He had only known this beast for an hour and already they were best friends.. It was strangely comforting? They didn’t have too many differences, or so far they didn’t anyway. Both hid their faces, both couldn’t speak, both seemed lonely, though at least Thomas’ mother was still around. Oh how Vincent missed his mother.. He often felt she was the only one who loved him unconditionally. </p>
<p>  A month had passed since then, and Bo was still nowhere in sight. Vincent was now beginning to wonder if he was caught too and murdered, or if he just kept driving and never returned. Living in the confines of Thomas’ basement, he wasn’t quite sure how far he originally was from where he got caught. He was given used clothes and fresh food. Luda, Thomas’ mother would sneak a plate for him at least twice a day, happy that her son had someone to occupy his time with. The food itself was.. Odd. Vince couldn’t quite pick up what it was, but he ate it to rebuild his strength regardless. He was given a small area to sleep on at night made of hay and old couch cushions with a fitted sheet. Thomas would even boil candles down and allow Vincent to use makeshift tools to sculpt with, he seemed to enjoy watching him work. He even made a tiny bust of a bull’s head for Thomas. They would often write each other small notes or sit in silence together.</p>
<p>  “Pleasantly living in Stockholm syndrome..” Vince thought to himself, not too concerned with much else. He rarely disliked his situation, if anything it was extraordinarily tranquil having company that wasn’t constantly shouting or abusing him. Though he couldn’t speak for Thomas, as there were days he could hear another soul yelling at him upstairs on occasion. Poor Thom, it seemed he could never catch a break when it came to his own family. Some days he would come downstairs stomping around or crying out angrily whilst breaking things. Vince wasn’t one for physical comfort, though he’d offer origami birds from their shared notes that seemed to lighten the mood. Thomas would return the favor by showing Vincent his bone collection, which would remind him of his home back in Ambrose, Louisiana. It seemed both men were surrounded by death no matter where they were. It was also nice, never having to hide their faces from each other. Vincent finally felt normal.</p>
<p> One day, however.. Caught Vincent off guard. Normally he bathed in bucketed cold water with a fresh cloth every few days, it was typically uncomfortable but nothing he couldn’t handle. But today, today he had a surprise. Thomas barreled a vintage wooden tub down the stairs. Filling it with a few buckets of boiled water and a chunk of soap. Vincent watched this whole ordeal casually thinking it was some type of upgrade from the bucket–though this was different. Thomas would usually leave him to his own devices to bathe, but today he remained downstairs, anxiously inviting Vince to soak. At first he was taken aback, not sure if this was a trap or if this was just invasion of his personal space. Either or he was a bit uncomfortable. He never disrobed in front of anyone, not even his mother when she was alive. So needless to say this wasn’t something he looked forward to. Though Thomas nudged him to accept the invitation and would do his usual bratty stomp when Vincent lingered too long in thought. </p>
<p>  So he walked cautiously towards the tub, gazing at his friend, then back at the steamy water. His reflection nearly made him cringe. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since he arrived, it had been so long since he looked at himself he had forgotten about how ‘hideous’ he believed he was. Thomas gently palmed his smaller companion’s shoulder, trying to reassure that he was safe with him. Vincent chewed on the inner side of his cheek before disrobing. Both hands laced under the hem of his shirt, peeling it upwards and over his head. Fingering his hair back over the right side of his face before unbuckling his leather belt. Popping the button of his pants and pulling the fabric down to kick off at the ankles. All that was left were his undies that he was a bit hesitant to remove.. Thomas waved his hand as Vincent hooked his fingers into the elastic band, trying to let him know he doesn’t have to take them off if he feels uneasy about it.</p>
<p>  Shrugging his shoulders back, nodding thankfully. Dipping his toes into the water, the warmth inviting. He stepped inside then kneeled to sit Indian style, allowing the heat to engulf up to his midsection. Thomas gingerly pulled him to his chest, letting Vince relax against the rim of the tub. Dipping his own hands into the water searching for the soap, once he found it, he began idly bathing his friend. Beginning with his arms, he would lather from his palms up to his triceps on each side; then rinsing with a wet rag. At first Vincent was as frigid as a statue, not accustomed to being touched this intimately before.. Though as time went on, he loosened up to the gesture. Finding himself rather enjoying the spoils of confinement. Tipping Vince’s head back along his forearm and carrying him to lay further in so he could wash his hair. Lathering the root with his fingertips and combing through his dark mane and wringing it with ease, permitting him to lean back against the rim.</p>
<p>  His chest was next, almost reminding him of the day he was unmasked; though softer than before. Thomas would foam suds between his hands, tenderly wrapping them around Vince’s throat and massaging down his pecks, a finger or two slowly circled around his nipple before having his sternum caressed. Vinny’s breath hitched for a moment as his navel was being stroked, slight tension in his loins growing as a hand lingered further down just above his crotch, though clothed–it was an intense shift in mood. Vincent was experiencing an incline in heart palpitations, he felt he was a deity in worship. Thomas’ exploration was causing feelings he would normally hide for the sake of his brother just so he couldn’t get in his head like he does with everything else.. </p>
<p>  Thomas’ palm reversed strokes to rinse away the bubbles before shifting to the side of the tub, one hand hooking along the inner side of Vincent’s thigh, raising it by the bend of his knee so he could scrub his porcelain skin. Now that Vince had a better view of him, he noticed how focused Thom was as he washed. His brows furrowed like he was lost in thought, his eyes half shut as he worked his way from Vinny’s knee to his foot causing him to jerk a bit from being ticklish. Thom glanced up though Vince averted his gaze shyly. Thom smiled, not realizing it at first but now that he had.. He ran with it. Picking up his other foot by the ankle and scrubbing between his toes playfully causing Vincent to stir like a feral animal. He splashed around making muffled noises, though Thom pressed a finger to his lips and hushed him aggressively, ceasing to tickle for the sake of Charlie not to hear them, not realizing he’d react so avidly. Vincent breathed quietly, a bit embarrassed. Though his companion continued to bathe him. </p>
<p>  Moving back to his previous position behind Vincent and inching his fingertips to the band of his boxers he tried to hand Vince the soap so he could finish bathing, though Sinclair did not want to finish.. He wanted more, there was a minor ache in his gut and nether regions now.. And he wasn’t sure what to do with them. So instead of taking the soap, he closed Thomas’ fingers around it and timorously tugged his hands towards his crotch. Thomas froze momentarily before proceeding. Not sure if he wanted to remove the garment out of respect for his friend so he rubbed the soap between his fingers and steadily palmed over his clothed genitals, slightly humming as he did. Vincent’s eye rolled back in relaxation, leaning his head back against Thom’s chest while he was being fondled. </p>
<p>  Vincent couldn’t tell you the last time he touched himself, or a time where he was with another man. That sort of thing was kept top secret, he wouldn’t even let Lester know of his inner desires. He tried to keep this platonic but–he couldn’t resist the arousal. This bull knew how to work a shaft, not sure if that was due to practice or genuine friendly dedication; though the sensuality of it all was romantic. Vince could feel himself growing erect more by the second, praying his underwear could hide it but knowing that would be an impossible feat. He was of average size, but thickened up towards the tip when he was stimulated.. and it always showed. </p>
<p>  Thomas grinned ear to ear, this display of indelicacy evoking excitement within himself too. He played innocently at first before inching the wet fabric past his hips for easier access. Lacing a fist around Vincent’s phallus and twisting the base and tugging upwards. He worked in slow patterns, gentle strokes with minor pulling. He’d separate his fingers and palm over the head, Vince felt his face getting hot with anticipation, burying his head into the crook of Thomas’ forearm as the other pleased him. A bit of preejaculate leaking from his swollen member as it was being toyed with at a quicker pace. Thomas leaned over to smooch his neck, planting hungry kisses along his jawline and breathing hot into his ear while he played with his cock, pinching his lobe between his teeth as his speed increased. </p>
<p>  It didn’t take much for Vincent to feel a wave of climax wash over him, he could feel the muscles of his thighs begin to tighten and his testicles swell. He was on the edge of release before opening his eye and catching a glimpse of himself in a shattered piece of glass across the room. Immediately he felt worthless, and all feelings of euphoria dropped. He started to cry, thinking he didn’t deserve this, that he didn’t deserve to be normal or.. Satisfied. He thrashed about, abruptly pulling away from Thom’s arms and standing upright in the tub hugging himself into a sob. Thomas falling back on his butt  looking up at Vincent with both surprise and confusion, his little pleasure bubble being suddenly popped by a bang on the upstairs door. Thankfully it was locked, though he had to check. Putting his hands up into a shoulder shrug before irritably adjusting his erection. He headed upstairs, shutting the door behind himself. Vinny could hear Charlie yelling at him, over what? He wasn’t sure of it. At first he thought it was because of the noise, but it seems it was over something petty like there not being enough to eat at dinner and calling Thomas a fat, greedy pig. Little did he know there was a hitchhiker eating the other half in the basement.</p>
<p>  About thirty minutes passed by before he returned, a look of disappointment and frustration on his face. He glared at Vincent, hands on his hips awaiting for some type of reasoning as to why he interrupted his flow. Vinny sniffed, pointing to their notepad. Thomas reluctantly handed it to him, writing through sniffles and handing it to Thom to read. Thomas’ crossed face turned into that of endearment. It read, “I’m so ugly.. I don’t deserve your affection..” Thomas tore the note out, crumbling it and throwing it into the tub to write something new. He then passed it to Vinny, reading his bull’s poor handwriting making his heart melt. “Ur beautiful to me V just like tha birds we see.”  It took Vincent a moment to remember all those mornings they would get up and watch the mockingbirds that nested in the outside of the basement’s windows. “A bull and a mockingbird..” Vinny thought, wiping his nose as a smile grew. </p>
<p>   The two gazed at each other admirably before Vincent outstretched his arms for Thomas to join him in the tub, though he didn’t think about removing his clothes before stepping in. He climbed in boots and all to pick up the smaller man and cradle him in his arms for them to share a moment of unwarranted bliss. Vince wrapped his slender arms around Thomas’ neck, pressing their lips together. Though Thomas was a bit more eager than Vince, biting onto his lower lip and draping his legs around his waist and carrying him over to a nearby table. Their tongues intertwining shortly before Thomas kneels down, spreading Vincent’s knees. Vince watched him curious as to why their kiss was broken until his undies were being ripped in two at the crotch. Thomas nipped along his icy thighs before cradling his balls in his mouth, the warmth and fluidity of his tongue causing Vincent to groan softly. Sucking on his scrotum and teething against the skin, Vincent was rock hard again in no time. </p>
<p>  His tongue was incredibly wide.. Vince could feel it prodding at his asshole before lapping at it like a hungry hound lubing it just enough for his next move. Thomas licked up the shaft, lathering it with his saliva before taking him in his mouth while adding a finger into his anus at the same time all the way at the knuckle. The double sensation giving Vincent whiplash. He had never had someone so anxious to please him before. He felt so special.. Having his manhood at Thomas’ mercy was such a pleasurable endeavor. He wasn’t too shy from an orgasam already; the teasing from his bath still fresh on his mind. Thomas had him six inches deep in his throat and was not going to stop until Vinny pumped his gullet full of cum. A few moments more of ravenous fellatio and Vincent was going to bust; he felt his balls swell, his feet stretching forward–the friction of his anal cavity lushing him into total orgasam. He had fistfuls of Thom’s hair locked as he exploded. His semen shooting in the back of his throat, filling his mouth like a loaded water gun. </p>
<p>  Thomas took great pride in his trophy, gulping it down happily as Vincent became reacquainted with God. He stood up watching Vince tremble in glee. Unhinging his own excitement, he was leaking like mad awaiting for the moment to taste his little bird’s sweet nectars. It was unlike any other beverage he ever had. After calming down Vincent was trying to turn onto his knees though Thomas stopped him, confused Vincent gestured towards Thomas entering him from behind but Thomas shook his head, moving him back onto his back and raising his slender legs over his hulking shoulders. Thomas then pointed at his own eyes then back down to Vincent’s face in a “I wanna watch you” fashion. Vince blushed hard, relaxing on his back while Thomas readied his Johnson for entry. He was around the same length as Vinny, though adding half an inch with more girth. Thomas shoved two fingers into Vince’s mouth, watching his shy lover suck on them for lube. He added his own drool before lathering himself up; pressing the tip against V’s pink hole and prodding it gingerly, inch by inch slipping inside until he was completely immersed within his cavity. </p>
<p>  He hadn’t even started yet, and Vincent’s breathing was raspy from the fullness of his penis. Thomas inched his face down to Vinny, kissing him sweetly before giving a hardy thrust and choking him with that wide tongue of his so he couldn’t make a sound. Vince Pressed his palms against his bull’s chest, pushing away as his counterpart was jack hammering him into submission from speedy movements to softer strokes. V’s member being firmly grasped by Thom as he straddled his little bird’s ass. Vincent looked away bashfully before Thom gripped his chin with his free hand to lock eyes with him once more. Intimately stroking his lower lip with his thumbpad. Vincent couldn’t get over his eyes, the way they’d shine from the window’s reflection of the sun; or how dark and brooding they’d get when he was mad. All thoughts were stopped short as he was suddenly being hoisted up, Thom turning to lay back on the table with his companion strode atop like a vision. </p>
<p>  Vincent’s cheek was so red, he had never been on top before.. He was unsure what to do, though Thomas’ thrusts did not cease with positional change; both calloused hands gripped V’s hips, moving him along his force. This angle felt like heaven.. Vincent slowly introduced his own rhythm, slow hip circles and bouncing seemed to work. Thom was groaning underneath, removing V’s wet hair out of his face so he could admire it entirely while they made love. Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off Vincent, just something so amazing about him. The way he looked, the way he walked, the way he wrote, the way he smiled, the way his eye glistened when he was sad. He felt himself reaching the edge.. Vincent interlocking his fingers with Thomas as he kneeled down, kissing his bull passionately while he unloaded into his guts while Vince left a smaller portion on Thomas’ stomach. They both panted quietly, hearts beating out of their chests as they started to come down from the high. Thomas stretched his hand to caress Vinny’s face, pulling him tight against him afterwards and never letting him go. Vince resting his tired head and hand on his chest, his palm exploring Thom’s heartbeat as they both laid quietly in ecstasy. “Can I keep you?..” Thomas thought to himself, kissing his bird’s forehead as he began to fall asleep. “Can I stay here forever?..” Were Vincent’s last thoughts before getting lost in blissful slumber. </p>
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